A Christmas to Remember
by Baileys
Summary: Tony DiNozzo gets into trouble at Christmas, but is it just Tony the unsub is targeting? And what does Hotch have to say about it?
1. Chapter 1

A/N: for those that have read this as part of my NCIS series 'Christmas Continuum' this is a re-edit of the original, but this version is a more even split between CM and NCIS characters (hopefully) and I've fixed some glaring story errors, spelling? I gave that a go too.

 _ **Tuesday 23**_ _ **rd**_ _ **December 2003...**_

" _Okay, so what would Gibbs do?"_

The throw away comment curls Gibbs' lip enough to form what could almost pass itself off as a smile, but he and Kate continue to view the video tape without comment. They watch Tony pace up and down the dimly lit windowless room, feeling the walls searching for a way out. It's clear he doesn't know he's being filmed, not just because his gaze never once connects with the camera, but if Tony knew anyone was watching him he would have made certain to hide the desperation covering his face right now. The camera angle is high, but not obscured. It wouldn't have taken him long to figure it out, but by then he'd known it to be too late.

Sure enough, as Tony continues his search he gets closer and closer to the lens until he's staring right back at them, a look of pure desolation filling the bullpen's plasma screen. They've visited enough crimes scenes together, caught enough kidnappers and murders to know a filmed hostage in a locked room indicated the worst kind of trouble. Looking directly into the sad green eyes as the presence of the camera and its meaning registers Gibbs itch's to move, to provide the back-up Tony must already know by now isn't coming. To do something other than stand by and watch what traumatic event will unfold next.

As if n synchronicity, if he believed in such a thing, the door in the background swings suddenly open, hitting the wall behind it with enough force to send dust particles flying around the room, blurring the image for a second and flooding the screen with bright unnatural light. In the recording Tony spins around to face it and just like Gibbs trained him, he steps cautiously forward, his hand instinctively going to his belt where his gun should be. But instead of heading for the perceived exit Tony clumsily retreats and makes a grab at the camera. Dislodging it from the wall must have done something to the sound because the tape they're viewing suddenly becomes a silent movie. Tony's face fills the screen and looking directly into the lens again he speaks a few words before he drops the camera. It hits the dirt floor with a bounce, affording them a view of not one, but two pairs of boots as Tony is unceremoniously dragged away.

The feed winks out, turning their screen to static snow. Gibbs turns away to stare at the real snow falling outside the squad room windows. Looking up he sees the skylight is almost completely covered over in frosty whiteness and lets out a chuckle. His first winter at NCIS Tony told him he'd put together a 'snowed in survival kit' in case it ever broke the glass and they got buried alive inside the squad room. Gibbs had subsequently told him if that happened he wouldn't need the survival kit since he'd most likely be impaled by a falling shard of glass and bleed to death before rescue could get to him, because that was just his luck. Being kidnapped a week before Christmas was also just his luck and Gibbs sighs at the irony, forcing his mind back to the logistics of the case.

According to the timestamp on the bottom left hand corner of the screen the little film they'd just watched had been recorded last Saturday. It was now Wednesday. Yet, despite knowing the crap odds of finding Tony alive after being missing four days Gibbs is still holding out hope. DiNozzo's a survivor after all and if ever there was an agent to go against statistics it's him.

Giving the blank screen one last look Gibbs turn his back on the plasma and stomps over to his desk, uttering nothing more than a mild curse under his breath. His restraint isn't thanks to his superb skill of keeping calm in a crisis. He's actually rarely calm, crisis or otherwise. Generally he has two moods when he's working a case – _pissed off_ and _goddamn livid_. Calm only came when their case was over and he was at home, in his basement, working on his boat with the knowledge that all his team are safe and sound in their beds. No tonight his stoicism had nothing to do with being calm. Tony hadn't slept in his own bed for days and after the initial shock, worry and yes even _panic_ for his wellbeing, Gibbs had shut down completely. It was that or he went off the deep end, because there was no way he was going to acknowledge even the slightest chance that he wouldn't ever see him again.

Dropping into his chair with a frustrated growl Gibbs forces himself to think of something new they can do to find him. His desk is covered in reports of possible sightings, none of which have led anywhere, and right now they're just as clueless about Tony's whereabouts as they were two days ago upon first discovering him missing. Running a hand through his hair Gibbs checks on the Missing Person's Bolo they'd issued and sent to every police precinct from here to New York. Efforts had so far been focused on the East Coast because they believed his father, or one of his less than reputable associates, may have been involved in his disappearance. That's no longer a line of official inquiry since DiNozzo Sr. is confirmed to be out of the country, but personally Gibbs hasn't totally discounted the possibility yet. They haven't informed him about Tony's missing status either, only made some discreet enquires as to recent contact. They're under no legal obligation to tell his father since Tony listed Gibbs as his next of kin in case of emergency, and besides, he didn't see the point in wasting valuable minutes making the phone call.

Thinking about valuable minutes wasted, up until receiving that video in the mail today they hadn't any evidence to suggest Tony _had_ been abducted. When Gibbs first raised the alarm after he failed to show for work Monday morning and wasn't answering his cell or at his apartment the Director had tried to suggest that DiNozzo had simply met a girl and slept in. Gibbs had held firm with Morrow that although Tony was known for his one night stands, outside of injury he'd never missed a day's work since starting at NCIS and insisted that wherever Tony was, he was in trouble. DiNozzo wouldn't let them - let _him_ \- worry like this. For as much as he played the oblivious fool and as often as Gibbs pretended not to give a damn they did have a basic understanding of each other's feelings, even if they hadn't acknowledged them to each other yet. Tony was the reason rule #3 existed after all.

Picking up a copy of the missing poster Abby printed and they'd circulated after all their theories of this being personal hadn't panned out Gibbs stared long and hard at the photo, glaring it into submission. They'd purposefully not used his ID, not wanting to advertise him as a Federal Agent on the off chance his disappearance had nothing to do with NCIS and only made the situation worse. While internally laughing at just how much worse things could get his eyes targeted the very last line _'Tony, please get in touch, your family want to know you are safe.'_ It was a standard line on all missing person's posters, but seeing it - knowing the tape arrived just a day after releasing the poster to the media, it made Gibbs' heart constrict. The tape was likely a message. One Gibbs wouldn't forget in a long, long time.

Sitting back in his chair it didn't matter how long he stared at Tony's photo, nothing new came to mind and all he achieved by glaring at the smiling face was an ache inside his chest so deep it gave the Grand Canyon a run for its money. He was definitely feeling disconcerted and, sadly enough, this wasn't new territory for him either. It was becoming par for the course since Anthony DiNozzo Jr had joined his team. WheneverTony got in a mess Gibbs always experienced some level of anxiety, despite knowing he can take care of himself - on the job at least. Off the job was a different story, one he didn't want his head to get into right now, for he feared the two had merged this time and if that was the case DiNozzo was in a lot more trouble than Gibbs was prepared to face.

"Leads?" Gibbs barks, despite it being only him and Kate in the bullpen.

He looks up to find her still stood by the plasma, soft eyes focused on him, offering sympathy. "We _will_ find him Gibbs."

He wants to yell at her, tell her to stop profiling _him_ and get on with her job of catching the bad guys, but Kate says the words with such conviction Gibbs has to question who she's actually trying to convince. Looking closer, noting the dark rings around her eyes and the extra creases in her forehead, he can see she's on the verge of a breakdown too and is offering them both a lifeline they sorely need.

"Yeah," he nods, taking a moment to breathe, to pull himself together. Lifting heavy lids, raising his eyes to meet Kate's and speaking earnestly, he asks "so why do I feel like I'm not doing enough?"

He can see mirrored in her gaze the fear that this time they may lose him and that neither of them have a clue how to feel about that. It's one of _the_ most open moments he's ever had with a junior agent. Keeping the contact he communicates his own distress in one long look and for once doesn't feel at all ashamed for it.

Any other agent might have been uncomfortable and turned away, but not Kate. His relationship with her is different than with Tony or Abby, with them he's always in control, the patriarch who's strong and reliable. They look up to him, Tony especially, and trust him with some of _the_ most personal details of their lives. If Tony is ever in trouble Gibbs knows he would come to him in a heartbeat. That's how he knew that whoever had Tony now had come out of the blue, because if he'd been in trouble or was being threaten Gibbs would have known about it already. Kate is different because despite a vast difference in experience between them she sees herself as his equal, often in detriment to DiNozzo who acts like an eager to please puppy sometimes. And Even though he doesn't always agree with her methods or appreciate her often condescending interpersonal skills, she has the drive to become a successful investigator one day. What he needs to ensure is that she doesn't end up like another ex-Probie of his, one who made a few too many sacrifices, not to save a life or do the right thing, but to forward her own career and climb the promotional ladder.

"Gibbs?" another female voice calls from the side-lines, breaking the moment of joint quiet contemplation.

He and Kate turn in unison, both recognising the voice and both just as surprised by the quiver they hear in it. Gibbs' anger, which had been well buried until now, ebbs up a notch upon setting eyes on the woman whom had caused a ripple of discontent through his team since crossing paths with her a few months ago.

"Agent Cassidy," Kate answers cordially when he remains purposefully silent.

"I want to help," she says steadily, the quiver now under control. "I heard about Tony and-"

"What do you mean you heard? What did you hear?" Gibbs snaps at her, standing and sending his chair flying into the divide behind him with an audible thud.

He's pissed rumours about Tony where still circling NCIS, like he's the hot topic of gossip to be talked about this week and forgotten the next. Cassidy is supposed to be Agent Afloat for Christ sake, there's no reason for her to have heard anything!

"He's been missing four days Gibbs, his picture is all over the news," Cassidy takes a step closer to them, pointing at the monitors scrolling the request for information on a missing man in his thirties from D.C, amongst other news. "I can help… _please_."

"We could use the help Gibbs." Kate interjects soberly, no doubt reading the wild look in his eyes that said he was spoiling for a fight, one he could actually win and Cassidy had just offered herself to him like a lamb to the slaughter.

He stares at the pair of them, Cassidy averts her gaze, but Kate… she stands there, looking simultaneously sympathetic and determinedly pissed off, a paused image of Tony with sad resigned eyes behind her on the big screen. It's moments like this that Kate reminds him of the dutiful wife, one who keeps all her personal feelings buried deep and puts on airs for appearances sake, or more likely in this case; the greater good. It isn't a fair analogy, Kate is far more than simply dutiful, but that's how she often presents to those who don't know her better. As far as Cassidy is concerned, had he been thinking logically he would have seen straight away that having another set of eyes on the case was a good thing, but right in this moment all he sees is the woman who messed with Tony's head and heart.

In the end it's the watery quality to her voice when she asks him again to let her help them that makes his mind up. Next to crying woman, Gibbs hated begging woman most of all. Their sincerity wasn't to be trusted, maybe too many wives' had made him overly sensitive to manipulation, but, though it pained him, he still couldn't deny the truth of her and Kate's argument. They needed the help – wherever Tony is, he's running out of time.

"Fine," he grouses turning his back on her to look at the last image of Tony they had.

"So what have you got so far?" Cassidy asks her tears suddenly forgotten, she doesn't go so far as to smile though, good thing too otherwise he'd have definitely kicked her out.

Gibbs looks to Kate, who is continuing to tread carefully around him, but since he knows he's been extremely hard to live with these past few days he lets her get away with it and remains silent as she studiously picks up the clicker.

"Tony was officially declared missing when he didn't show up for work on Monday," Kate begins, bringing up a timeline of Tony's last movements. "Gibbs last saw him Friday at around five when he left NCIS and according to DiNozzo he was going home to get ready for a date. This tape was sent to NCIS today. It's time stamped 04:22am Saturday."

"What's he saying at the end there?" Cassidy asks, taking the clicker off Kate and pausing the screen before it turns to snow.

"Not your fault." Gibbs sighs without looking up from reading a report of one of the latest supposed sightings of Tony, this time in Baltimore.

"Excuse me?" Cassidy rears on him, obviously making an assumption about his meaning.

Gibbs growls and throws down the pen he's been holding, pointing at the screen "Tony! He's saying _'not your fault'_ "

"What does that mean?"

"Well gee Agent Cassidy I guess that's something we should find out, but I'm betting there's a good chance he's talking to me."

"What makes you think that?"

"Because," Gibbs stands and walks around his desk, snatching the clicker from her and replaying it, "the last word he starts to say before getting cut off."

"Which is?"

"Boss…" Abby answers sullenly from behind them, clutching a folder tightly to her chest.

Giving both women a pointed look Gibbs throws the clicker onto the spare desk opposite him and turns away taking Abby's arm to stomp off towards the elevators.

.

"When did Gibbs have to the time to learn to read lips?" Cassidy asks, breaking the lingering all-consuming silence after his sudden angry departure.

"When does Gibbs have the time to do anything?" Kate throws back with a sigh returning to her desk. "He's always at work. I'd be surprised if he even has a home to go back to."

She's of course referring to the fact that Gibbs is always the last leave, but also always the first to arrive in the mornings and given that the hours they work are not the most socially friendly she can easily imagine - being the happy in a wooden hut type of guy that he is - he'd see paying rent as an extraneous expense not to be bothered with. The idea made her smile and she held onto it, boxing the feeling away to drag out later when day four of Tony's disappearing act officially closed without a new lead.

Sitting down Kate finds a report of a sighting of Tony in Baltimore leaning against her monitor that hadn't been there a minute ago. Assuming Gibbs left it for her to follow up on she pulls over her phone and begins dialling the Baltimore P.D contact who forwarded it to them. It takes her nearly twenty minutes to get put through to the right department, but it proves well worth the wait…

"Gibbs!" Kate jumps up from her desk when the man himself walks in at the exact moment she's hanging up the phone. "They've found Tony's car!"

Gibbs missteps, but his smooth stride quickly resumes thus drawing little attention to the fact the news surprised him.

"Where?"

"Outside a nightclub east of Chase Street," She smiles giddily, looking down at the notes she's made.

"Club la Vita," Cassidy adds matter of fact.

Gibbs and Kate both look at her.

"I've been there, Tony too." She shrugs. "It's a good place to fly solo."

Gibbs shakes his head, unamused by her candour. It's hard enough for him to acknowledge there are similarities between Tony and Cassidy on a normal day, he doesn't need it being thrown in his face right now. Maybe that's another reason he doesn't like her, she's a player and Tony, despite what he claims, really isn't. Tony likes safety and younger women who aren't after commitment are the safest you can get when a lasting relationship is the last thing on your mind. That didn't make him a player - that made him scared to get hurt again. With Cassidy he'd seen from the get go Tony's attraction to her, just like he'd sensed that she was inevitably going to break his heart. It didn't take Kate calling him out on his own behaviour in Guantanamo for Gibbs to recognise he was overstepping his bounds as Tony's boss, but he'd experienced the kind of pain that comes from a relationship destined to end badly and if Gibbs could spare Tony from feeling anything close to that he was willing to do whatever it took, even if it meant taking a more interfering role in Tony's personal life and Tony hating him for it.

Gibbs chuckles lightly to himself. Now he thinks about it Ducky was right, Tony really is a lot like him, right down to making the same mistakes with women he had, but despite the many qualities he and DiNozzo share the difference is he'd fell in love and settled down at a young age, had a family, whereas DiNozzo had been introduced to sexual relationships in all the wrong ways and never had the positive parental role models to know what a healthy functioning relationship looked like.

"Well I don't think it was part of his date, the girlfriend said they had reservations at Madam Vies for eight but he never showed up." Kate went on, mindless of where Gibbs' thoughts had taken him.

"What else did she say?" Cassidy asks and Gibbs thinks he detects a note of jealously in her tone.

"That was it, she didn't even know his last name and I doubt very much she could even spell kidnapping," Kate answers, managing a dig at DiNozzo's choice of date even now, though Gibbs suspects it's out of comfort rather than spite so lets it go.

"So we don't know if he intentionally stood up his date and went to the club instead or if he was taken to Baltimore for another reason."

"But when he left he told Gibbs he was getting ready for his date…"

"So he didn't plan to stand her up. Something must have happened between six and eight last Friday for his plans to have changed, but what?"

Neither Agent had noticed Gibbs had dropped out of the conversation and was looking intently at his computer until he rose from his desk and stood behind them, making them jump.

"That _Agent Cassidy_ is what we are trying to find out." He snaps storming off angrily towards the elevators, grabbing something from the printer on his way, "Kate!"

"Going to club la Vita Gibbs," Kate shouts back in an excellent impersonation of DiNozzo when trying to ignore his obvious bad mood.

She drops the clicker and without pause for thought drags Cassidy away with her.

.

"Do you think Tony's okay?" Cassidy asks Kate once they're driving.

"Gibbs would know if he wasn't," Kate repeats what Gibbs had told her earlier in the week when she'd asked the same thing.

At that point she'd still been convinced Tony was at the mercy of some crazy girlfriend, but the appearance of the tape sent to them anonymously this afternoon kind of debunked that theory now. The fact that its Baltimore his car ended up in suggests a possible connection to his days as a detective over pissed-off girlfriend, someone looking for a bit of revenge maybe. Gibbs likely already has Abby running that possibility right now, but Kate reaches for her cell anyway. Phone in hand her finger hovers over the speed-dial and she pauses. Something didn't sit right. Gibbs would never chose to stay behind if he thought Tony was still in Baltimore, which probably means he doesn't think much of the lead. She's confident he wouldn't send them on a wild goose chase to waste their time, but clearly he has a better idea of what's going on than he's letting on and isn't sharing. If that's true he's not going to be the only one in a bad mood when they get back to the office and she'll make certain he knows it too.

.

"Duck!" Gibbs charges into autopsy.

"We found him Jethro?" Ducky appears hopeful, practically jumping out from between autopsy tables to greet him at the door, but his optimistic countenance dissolves upon seeing Gibbs' face. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

Gibbs hands over the print out of an email he's just received. He'd not said anything to Kate and Cassidy because he believes he already knows who sent it and if he's right then they're not just running out of time to find Tony, he knows there's no way they'll be able to find him on their own.

"Look familiar?"

Ducky takes the note with a wary eye and reads the few words printed upon the page.

"Oh Jethro," he remarks with the same fear in his voice that Gibbs is currently feeling in his chest.

Even he felt like crying at thought of _his_ Tony, being held captive by the same man who caused so many so much heartache over five years ago.

"He has him Ducky." Gibbs states simply knowing there's no doubt.

"But the FBI said he'd died…"

" _Thought_ he died Duck… we didn't get any more bodies, just means he could have gotten better at hiding them," He snaps, annoyed that he was as guilty as the FBI in being too quick to move on.

Taking the email back Gibbs charges towards the doors, only stopping short when Ducky shouts after him.

"But Anthony's been missing four days Jethro!"

"I know!" He barks back.

"Then you also know he only keeps them alive for five."

Stopping short of crossing the threshold into the corridor and turning back to face Ducky Gibbs sighs, "I remember Duck, but he also only took college kids last time, he's gone against type."

"To punish you," Ducky cut to the chase of what he believes Gibbs is thinking. "If you're hoping he's changed his MO entirely that is extremely unlikely, you know that."

"I know Tony's still alive," Gibbs tells him firmly, unwilling to believe anything else without proof. "I know it."

Ducky nods, though it's clear in his eyes he believes Gibbs is kidding himself. "Have you told Katelyn?"

"Not yet, sent her and Cassidy to follow a lead. Need to do something first." Gibbs quickly set his shoulders and put his stern mask back on.

"Jethro, this isn't your fault." Ducky calls after him again as he tries to leave.

"I know that too Duck," He calls back, this time walking out of sight into the corridor, "Tony told me…"

.

Gibbs returns to the bullpen in time to catch sight of his phone vibrating on his desk. It stops as soon as he picks it up. Checking the caller I.D he reads 'Todd' and according to the little number at the side of her name she's called him at least five times already. Throwing his phone back down so it hit the desk with a loud clank Gibbs decides he's already broken rule #3 so another couple of minutes won't hurt. It wasn't good news, and he knew this because if it were both Ducky and Abby would be in the bullpen right now celebrating since Kate would've called them after the first time he didn't answer. The only other reason she would be calling would be to tell him they hit a dead end and were coming back - just as he expected them to.

Sitting down at his desk, falling into his chair the weight of the world pressing down on his shoulders Gibbs pulls the printed email out of his pocket and lays it next to the missing person poster which is still face up on his desk.

'He who sins is he who must be punished for he is the sinner'

Rhetoric nonsense, a bogus biblical phrase that is nowhere to be found within any known version of the bible. And how does he know this already? Because he's looked - five years ago, the first time he'd seen the same message, hand delivered to the family a of young Navy enlisted college kid the day before his body showed up on campus.

The case was one of the last he'd worked alongside Mike Franks before he'd retired. They'd soon ascertained that the M.O matched that of three other murders, putting the case within the purview of the F.B.I. and thus affording Gibbs his first taste of _positive_ interagency co-operation.

 _ **1998…**_

" _Are you Gibbs?"_

" _Who's asking?" Gibbs stood from his desk and eyed the very serious looking man before him._

" _SSA Aaron Hotchner from the BAU," he flashed him an FBI badge, holding it out for a lengthy inspection._

 _Gibbs quirked a smile, assessing the not quite middle aged guy dressed as neat as a pin all in black with his gun clearly visible under his jacket. Mike was out and though it's not like he didn't know what he was doing, he'd been warned that the FBI didn't make courtesy calls, which meant this guy was after something, something they probably wouldn't want to give up. He squinted at the badge, giving it a good time wasting look._

" _What can I do for ya…?" Gibbs took his time to pretend to read the name again, "Hotch?" He finished with a wink and a sarcastic smile._

 _Not even a wrinkle. The agent remained impassive, letting the piss-taking of his name go over his head. Gibbs was mildly impressed by his stamina if nothing else. He couldn't imagine holding a glare for that long._

" _You have one dead sailor and we have three dead civilians in the space of less than a month. I'm not here to take the case, I want to catch this un-sub before he goes off the map, which we believe once he's done with his spree he will, until next time, and then the only way we'll know about it is when more bodies show up." Agent Hotchner looked at him, face still impassive, not even a twitch during his spiel._

" _So you want us to work together?" Gibbs laughed. He couldn't wait for Mike to meet this guy._

 _But just when he thought he had his number Hotch, as he'd already nicknamed him, cracked a smile, not a wide one by any means, but enough to be classed as definitely not a frown. "You up for that Agent Gibbs?"_

"Gibbs? Gibbs? GIBBs!"

Pulled out of the memory Gibbs slowly looks up from his desk to find Abby standing in front of him looking worried.

"Are you okay?" She asks quietly, too quietly for her.

Just looking at her face he knows that she knows about the email and knowing what _he_ has to do, without saying a word reaches for his phone.

.


	2. Chapter 2

"Agent Hotchner" Gibbs greets the FBI Agent with a smile and a handshake as he enters the bullpen.

"It's good to see you again," Hotch returns Gibbs' sad smile, firmly taking the offered hand. "I just wish it was under better circumstances."

"Yeah you and me both," he agrees cordially, genuinely glad to see the profiler again after all this time.

Neither one remarks about the passage of time and its natural aging effects, as well as the unnatural ones which just come with the job, instead Hotch allows a small barely there smile and follows Gibbs' inquisitive gaze over his shoulder. With little hesitancy he nods for the skinny kid hanging back to step forward.

"This is Dr Spencer Reid." Hotch announces plainly, giving Gibbs a look which is difficult to interpret.

But as soon as the young doctor inches forward and gives him a shy little wave instead of a manly handshake Gibbs understands the look completely. The kid's definitely a Probie, fresh out of the academy if the fretful look is anything to go by. Tall, but what he gains in height he loses in girth, to the point a stiff breeze could probably blow him over. 'kid' described him perfectly, right down to the innocent expression, which proves he's not been in the field long, not seen anywhere enough crap to damage his young psyche yet, at least not the kind of crap that comes with staring at dead bodies day after day. Thinking he probably looked much the same way on his first deployment in the Marines Gibbs feels a pang of sympathy for him. A sad smile almost forms on his lips, but like an elastic band stretched too far his mind snaps back to reality with a painful whack. This kid isn't his concern - he has his own to worry about right now.

"I got this today," Gibbs' face turns to Hotch, tone serious as he grabs the email from his desk. "Tony's not been seen since Saturday…"

He knows he doesn't need to explain the significance of the time period to Agent Hotchner.

"You sure it's him?"

"I'm sure." Gibbs answers carefully, nodding slowly.

He knew the first thing the profiler would do is question his assertion, hell he'd do the same if the shoe were on the other foot.

"May I?" The kid reaches out and takes the note from him without pause, his lips moving as he reads.

"If this is him it's been five years, why now?" Hotch gives Gibbs another telling look.

"I don't know," Gibbs shrugs, he knows they're grasping at straws here but straws are all they have. "You said it yourself back then, if we didn't catch him before his spree was over he could disappear."

"Five years is a long cooling off period, even for a serial killer and especially one like we profiled." Hotch reasons, and even though his tone is neutral Gibbs hears the doubt loud and clear.

"Actually the gap may not be significant at all," the kid suddenly speaks up in a not quite yet broken and strained voice, "while we don't know what triggered the original killings the dormant period could be explained by a lack of access to victims or capability rather than choice. Though the fact that it's one of your team who's missing and the change of M.O from sending a hand delivered letter to sending it via email suggests he's definitely embraced change. Either the circumstances just weren't right until now or something has happened to trigger the unsubs psychopathic nature again and has combined his need to kill with a desire for revenge."

Dr Reid looks completely nonplussed by Gibbs' glare as he keeps talking, excitedly answering his own questions by debating exactly what the killer would want revenge for given he was never caught - and Gibbs thought _DiNozzo_ had a problem shutting up.

Hotch seems completely used to it however and hushes the kid with a subtle, but firm hand to his arm and quiet "Reid," looking at Gibbs he says "We'll do everything we can."

 **.**

In the elevator on the way down Reid sniffles a few times, opening his mouth and quickly closing it again before plucking up the courage to speak.

"Did I talk too much? Gideon-"

"Reid you did fine." Hotch cuts him off, "right now we need to focus on the unsub."

Spencer institutionally averts his gaze, so misses the teasing smile playing at the corner of his superior's lips after he speaks. He's still getting to grips with Aaron Hotchner's method of straight talk. It isn't a problem, but he's been working mostly with Gideon all through his year at the academy and is more used to cryptic misdirection than straight to the point correction. He's a genius in all things quantifiable, which of course social interactions are not, and truly finds it strange having an alpha male authority figure like Hotch take an interest in him. With his dad gone and mom too sick to even know who he was some days he'd spent most of his formative years around female teachers or the cafeteria staff. He'd not had many friends his own age due to completing grades in a third of the time it took his peers. In college no sports coach had even blinked in his direction and because he was only fourteen, as a freshman the boys usually avoided him and the nice girls tended to coddle him. So his only real experience of alpha males came from the playground bullies and those weren't the kind of people anyone should adopt as role models.

"Yeah, of course." Reid affirms when the elevator comes to a clunking halt, forcing his focus back on to tackling the issue at hand instead of his own insecurities, "so where do we start?"

The doors part and Hotch gives him a smooth sideways glance as they step off the elevator, "At the beginning."

.

"Hotch its two days before Christmas man, this better be good," Morgan quips as he saunters up to meet him and Reid, not in their usual briefing room in Quantico, but in the lobby of FBI headquarters in the heart of Washington D.C.

"Yeah because Morgan still has all his shopping to do," JJ teases with an easy smile.

Morgan gives her the evil eye, not missing Spencer ducking his head in shy amusement, while Hotch remains as impassive and serious as usual when on the clock.

"We have a situation, an NCIS agent has been kidnapped, missing four days and we've only got one more day to find him."

"Wait -four days?" Morgan echoes, interrupting.

Hotch nudges his head towards the side corridor and leads the team down to a small meeting room on the left hand side.

"Cosy," JJ offers walking in first, noting the lack of any real workable space.

Spencer immediately approaches the table in the middle, stacked with files and begins reading.

"So how come this is a case for us?" Morgan questions, suspicious as usual while inspecting the less than ideal room.

"Because the BAU have searched for this particular unsub before," Hotch gets straight to the point, handing out the rest of the folders to the others. "This is the original case file from 1998, four bodies found on college campus' in the Virginia area, all with the same signature."

"Unsub was never caught?" Morgan raises his eyes to meet Hotch, trying to get an understanding of what the issue is before reading the file.

"No, and NCIS got involved when an enlisted petty officer at Liberty was found dead on campus like the others, matching the signature."

"Who had the lead?"

"We did," Spencer speaks up quickly, having read the entire file in the short time it took Hotch to answer Morgan's questions, "well the BAU did, it says the fact that one victim was a Petty Officer wasn't part of the signature given the others were of varying backgrounds and studies, the only thing they shared in common were their looks, age and that they were all newly enrolled students found on their respective colleges campus'."

"Thank you genius," Morgan teases, words laced with friendly sarcasm.

Sarcasm Spencer Reid just doesn't get.

"You're welcome." He replies, absently taking a pen to the clean whiteboard.

Morgan opens his mouth to offer a rebuke explaining it isn't a compliment, but Hotch hushes him with a look and his own interruption.

"The BAU and NCIS worked the case together, but the spree ended with the Petty Officer and as feared the trail went cold after that."

"So how's this case related to the missing Agent?" Morgan takes the hint as it's meant and gets back on track.

"NCIS Agents Franks and Gibbs were leads on the case, Franks retired not long after, but it's an Agent on Gibbs' current team who is missing." Hotch reaches inside his jacket pocket and pulls out the printout of the email Gibbs gave him and passes it to Morgan. "He received this today."

Morgan eyes Hotch quizzically and reads the note out loud, comparing it to the copies of the ones received five years ago contained in the file.

"I'll give it you it's a hell of a coincidence if it's not the same guy, but five years?"

Hotch waits a beat, expecting Reid to launch into the same spiel he had back at NCIS, however he remains surprisingly silent, keeping his focus on writing notes on the changes in victimology onto the white board. Having only joined them as a probationary Agent in the last few months Reid's still a little shy around the rest of the group so Hotch isn't too worried, however he logs the moment in the back of his mind to re-examine in more detail later, just in case.

"I've already considered that, Gibbs is certain and given the time constraints with no other viable leads I don't see as we have another option but to pursue this. If it is the same unsub and he follows his previous pattern we only have one more day to find Agent DiNozzo alive."

"Sure, but Hotch if you and Gideon couldn't find this guy five years ago what makes you think we can do it in less than 24 hours?"

"We have to try." Hotch orders plainly, not explaining why he owes Gibbs this chance to find his agent.

Hotch can see Morgan isn't satisfied with that answer, and being the least trusting and most headstrong of the group, he's first to open his mouth, questioning his motives for being willing to help so blindly. JJ is rolling her eyes, likely bored with what she would class as typical alpha male posturing, whereas Reid is merely looking between them, gaging his reaction to what is an obvious challenge to his authority.

"Where's Gideon?" JJ eventually breaks the tension, beating Morgan to the final punch and possibly saving him from a reprimand too.

"He's been requested in Boston." Hotch levels a look at his team of three.

"The bomber case?" JJ frowns.

"Yes," He answers absently turning to address Reid who it appears is already working on a geographical profile.

But JJ doesn't accept that, confused as to why she'd been left out of the loop. "I didn't get the official invite through yet..."

"And I was supposed to lead when we did." Morgan butts in.

"I need you here." Hotch turns back and glares a warning at Morgan.

"You know I think the profile from five years ago can still be used," Reid spouts suddenly, interrupting the stare off. "If we use what we know from five years ago and apply that to the idea this unsub is out for some kind of revenge we can possibly extrapolate-"

To anyone who wasn't a profiler perhaps it would seem like an innocent accident, but Hotch could tell by the nervous way he turned his back on them as he started talking, hiding his eyes behind his long fringe that Reid had been uncomfortable with the building tension. Something else Hotch needed to file away for later examination.

JJ and Morgan both turn to face the white board where Reid is uncapping two different coloured marker pens and drawing on a map of D.C in overlapping circles.

"According to the file this should be the unsubs comfort zone." He announces, spreading his arms across the newly coloured in space without turning around.

"You've read the entire file and done a geo profile already?" Morgan states, more to get everyone else's reaction to that and gage it against his own than to actually get an answer to the question.

"Yes," Reid dismisses casually, the implication behind Morgan's words going completely over his head, "chances are the unsub was interviewed last time and that could explain why he stopped killing. We should revisit previous suspects with local connections that recently returned, still reside or work in this area." He stabs the center circle with the green pen and turns around to find everyone staring at him. "Given the time we have it really is the best option." He insists, misreading the stunned looks as doubt instead of astonishment.

Morgan rolls his eyes to the ceiling and sighs happily in surrender before addressing Hotch. "So who looked good for this five years ago?"

Hotch holds in an amused smile. Morgan is a good agent and his surprisingly gentle nature, which he's used in abundance since Reid joined their team, is why they chose to hire _him_ over so many others who'd applied for the sort after position in the BAU a year ago. Their newest and by far youngest recruit is already capable of thinking rings around them and once he grows out of the painful shyness holding him back he'll be a force to be reckoned with, but that's only likely to happen with their consistent support and guidance to help him grow-up into the agent Hotch knows he can be. Morgan, and his seemingly endless patience when it comes to Reid, will be instrumental in achieving that.

"Unfortunately we had several suspects, too many," Hotch shakes himself, doing as he'd instructed Spencer earlier and turning his focus back on the case, "Morgan and Reid I want you to narrow the list further using the geographical profile and interview any that are still viable, we don't have time to waste on long shots. JJ you'll come with me to NCIS for family interviews, see if we can establish how Agent DiNozzo crossed paths with the unsub."

JJ nods, gathering up her few things.

"Okay, come on then pretty boy," Morgan beckons Reid to follow him out the room.

Looking a little unsure about his newest nickname –something the poor kid will soon learn Morgan is known for - Reid looks to him for approval. Hotch isn't sure how to respond to that look. Reid is the first kid recruit he's ever taken under his wing and he's still learning the ropes when it comes to being a teacher as well as supervisor. Taking a leaf out of Gideon's book, instead of glaring and expecting Spencer to understand the non-verbal cue Hotch reaches out and pats him on the shoulder. Ignoring the small flinch of surprise when his hand makes contact he pushes him gently in the right direction. As a profiler Reid is already adept at interpreting micro expressions and glances in their suspects, but even with an IQ of 187 when it comes to recognizing social cues and friendly gestures aimed at him, it's very much like looking after a kindergartner.

.

.

Hotch and JJ enter NCIS, having gone over the current case details in the car. Stepping out of the elevator into the NCIS bullpen JJ takes one look at the orange walls and for once is grateful for their own muted beige, it may be boring, but at least there isn't a chance of their office giving her a migraine.

"We're here to see Agent Gibbs,"

A brunette Agent looks up at them standing from behind her desk.

"And you are?" The woman aims a flirtatious smile Hotch's way.

"This is SSA Hotchner and I'm SSA Jenifer Jareau, FBI." JJ steps forward and introduces them.

.

Kate can't help but notice Jareau's territorial behaviour, but she smiles anyway, offering both Agent's her hand.

"Agent Kate Todd."

One look at the ring on Agent Hotchner's finger as they shake explains everything. Shame. The only single good looking guys she met nowadays were either murdered or the murder suspects.

"You work with Agent DiNozzo." Hotchner states, taking his palm back.

Kate smiles again, this time because she appreciates the use of presence tense, in no way near ready to give up on Tony yet.

"You're the profilers?" it dawns on her suddenly.

"You're a profiler yourself." Hotch returns. At Kate's frown he explains. "Agent Gibbs forwarded your personal files. We're here to interview you about Agent DiNozzo, see if we can determine what set him apart as a target."

"Victimology," Kate agrees with a knowing nod. "Gibbs is with the director, but you can start with me… where do you want me?"

She hadn't meant it to sound as flirtatious as it did, damn if DiNozzo wasn't rubbing off on her. Luckily Agent Hotchner simply smiles and indicates she can show them to where's best, trusting her judgement. So without further ado Kate steps from behind her desk, leaving a note for Agent Cassidy and shows the FBI Agents to their conference room.

.

Walking down the quiet residential street where one of the previous suspects had reportedly moved to since being interviewed in 1998 Morgan is contemplating the pointlessness of this case. While he's being exceptionally vocal about how he should be in Boston with Gideon working a real case, in a weird twist of circumstance the BAU's resident chatterbox is actually being extremely quiet for once.

"How you holding up there Pretty boy?"

Reid looks up at him, not directly, a sideways glance that can easily be diverted if needed.

"I'm fine." He answers hesitantly, but firm.

Morgan chuckles at his shy defensiveness. Since working with the kid full time it's become painfully obvious he's unused to being acknowledged by his peers as a person over a resource. Not that Morgan can consider himself equal to Reid, in age or ability to be truthful, but then who could? He's barely old enough to drink, has clearly spent most of his life locked away in classrooms and appears to have the social skills of a kindergartner if his confused reaction to a simple question such as 'how are you?' is anything to go by. Morgan can easily picture him as that kid in class who sat at the far corner desk out of the way. Too shy and too insecure to even think about having a normal conversation with anyone. He finds it sad in a way, because if anyone took the time to look they'd see there is so much more to Spencer Reid than his sky-high IQ.

In fact, if the weird mix-matched socks are any indication of the personality locked away in that encyclopaedic head of his he's really a fun loving kid dying to be set free and without question Morgan's decided to make it his mission to ensure that kid gets his chance to come out and play sometime very soon.

"It's your first Christmas on your own in a new City, you don't have to put on a brave face for us kid, we all know how scary it is." Morgan tells him after a prolonged nervous silence from the boy by his side.

"I graduated high school at 12 and went away to college at 14, I've always been alone." Reid says in a matter of fact way.

Morgan doesn't miss his choice of words. Not - _on his own_ \- _alone_.

"Reid," Morgan stops them dead, waits until he has Spencer's full attention. "You're not alone, kid."

Spencer doesn't know how to respond to that. He's only just coming to grips with exactly what it means to spend all his time with people who study human behaviour for a living. Every word he says, every move, every choice gives something away about him and his personality. Although he was told there's an agreement against inter-team profiling Reid is beginning to believe it's a matter of say one thing and do another with these people. Like they can't help themselves and rely upon the premise of 'what the others don't know can't hurt them' as a way to excuse it.

Regardless of motive, it's becoming abundantly clear to him that he won't be able to hide much about himself for long, not that he has much to hide, but what he does want to keep secret he'll have to guard with his life to keep that way.

Instead of replying Spencer manages to avoid direct eye contact while shuffling his feet in the snow to turn and face the nearest house. Morgan has stopped them outside the very residence they're supposed to be vetting. Staring at the front door he wishes Gideon was with him right now. He's become used to his subtle guidance and quizzical teaching. Even Hotch would be better to have revealed that too, because despite being much sterner than Gideon he wouldn't really make an issue out of it so long as it didn't affect the case. Thankfully Morgan shows an understanding of his slip and drops the subject, grabbing his shoulder in a one armed hug he guides them down the snow covered driveway.

Gideon does the same sometimes, and Hotch did something similar before they left earlier. He didn't like people touching him at the best of times, let alone when he wasn't feeling comfortable, but for some reason they can't keep their hands off him. And it is _only_ him. He's watched them interact with each other and none of them seem to touch anyone else as often as they do him. Reid fears it's some signal he's giving off which he's unaware of, maybe instead of a 'kick me' sign on his back there's one that reads 'hug me'… the very idea makes him wince. He wants to ask Morgan if he knows what it is he's doing to trigger this near smothering reaction in people, but the courage to bring up the subject eludes him. Instead, with a heavy sigh and feeling foolish, Spencer allows Morgan to tow him towards the front door with troubled resignation. He's starting to realise how different the BAU is to anything he's experienced up until now, and fearfully wonders exactly what place they see him fulfilling in their lives.

.

JJ settles down at the table, Hotch has left her to interview Agent Todd alone while he goes in search of Gibbs and the rest of the support team that make, up Agent DiNozzo's close circle of friends.

"Okay, so I'm going to ask a few questions about Agent DiNozzo don't worry if you don't know something, but try your best to answer as honestly as possible." JJ gave the usual explanation, she'd not forgotten Kate was a profiler, but felt it helped established what they were going to do here.

"Shoot," Kate smiles, a little forcefully.

"When you last saw Agent DiNozzo, what was he doing?"

.

" _Hey Katie!" Tony shouted from the floor behind his desk._

" _DiNozzo," she sighed, "what are you doing?"_

" _Getting ready for my date," Tony answered breathlessly, completing a sit up. "Need to be in shape, she's a beauty fitness instructor."_

 _'What?' Kate mouthed to herself, shaking her head, never quite understanding how DiNozzo could have possibly gotten to where he is today being so stupid sometimes. "And lying on the floor in a sweat after two crunches is going to achieve that?"_

 _It was gone five on a Friday, she really shouldn't give a damn about Tony's weird dating stunts, but part of her wanted to actually help him not make quite such an idiot out of himself now and again. Looking up over her bag as she packed the last of her things to take home for the weekend, seeing him fall back after another failed crunch, she shook her head again. He was beyond help._

 _._

"I left after that, he was still in the bullpen." Kate blinked, coming back to the present sadly.

"And he never mentioned anything strange happening over the last few days?" JJ asks sympathetically, understanding how completely useless Kate was probably feeling. "Anybody watching him, anything he might have mentioned that raised a red flag?"

Sighing Kate slumps back in her seat. "Thing about DiNozzo is he talks so much it's hard to separate the facts from the white noise. According to him he has a different date every night, but if we have to work late he never calls anyone to cancel plans."

JJ smiles sadly, understanding. "You care about him."

Kate makes a sound similar to a laugh which comes out more like a choking cough. "As annoying as he is sometimes, he makes it hard not to."

.

"Well that was a bust," Morgan kicks at a snow pile as they leave the second suspect's house.

Two dead ends so far. Literally. Both prior suspects had died - one in a hit and run three months ago, the other a heart attack when running from the police after being caught breaking into a women's gym. They should have been able to knock them off their list with one phone call, but nobody in the analyst department at Quantico was answering his calls, probably all drunk at the office party they were missing, so they'd had to do it the old fashioned way. As soon as they closed this case he was going to add 'their very own dedicated BAU tech analyst' to his Christmas list.

"We still have two left to visit" Reid encourages as they climb back into their SUV, obviously picking up on his sour mood.

Morgan stares at him, then asks, point blank. "Why'd you do that?"

"Do what?"

"Before with Hotch, when he wasn't telling us why we were doing this favour for NCIS you broke the tension. Just now, I'm clearly pissed off and you're trying to offer encouragement that there's still a chance we could find this guy tonight."

"Well we could." Reid says, eyebrows drawing together in a frown.

And the kid believes it too, Morgan can see it his eyes as he continues to stare. He wants to laugh, but feels that might be taken the wrong way so swallows his amusement instead. He knows he wasn't wrong about the nervous interruption earlier, but has enough common sense to leave it alone for now. One thing he had learned since becoming a profiler was the need for patience. He wasn't great at putting it into practice yet, being on the job only a year longer than the pretty boy sitting next to him, but is willing to keep trying. As for the kid's positive outlook on the agents survival Morgan isn't as hopeful, unfortunately everything about this case feels off and he can't shake the feeling that something bad is going to happen before they get to the bottom of it.

Looking back over at Reid to see the frown gone and his usual open innocent look in back place Morgan takes a deep breath and sighs his acquiescence. "Well what are we waiting for, the sooner we cross 'em off the list the sooner we can get back to actually profiling this guy."

Pulling into traffic Reid waits only a beat before speaking again.

"You really don't think we're going to find the Agent alive do you?" Morgan gives him a look, briefly diverting his attention from the road. "Statistics aren't on his side, but the profile doesn't support the idea that we're out of time. If one of these turns out to be the unsub, which there is a 36% probability they will. then there's a 95% chance of him still being alive when we find him, of course-."

The kid continues to spout possibilities and statistics for at least two blocks before Morgan has heard enough of his enthusiastic high pitched voice. He's about to put a polite end to it when Reid goes silent of his own accord, though whether it's because he'd finished or merely ran out of air remained to be seen.

"You done?" Morgan looks at him in amusement.

"Yep. Unless you decide to keep whining instead of working, then his chances decrease by about 3% for every minute wasted."

Derek has to do a double take while keeping his eyes on the road, but yes that is definitely a cheeky grin being aimed his way. Well who'd have guessed it? The walking computer slash encyclopaedia made a joke. Turns out his instincts were correct, there was a fun kid hiding under all that unruly hair.

.

"Miss shuito?"

Abby jumps at the intrusion in her lab. It's so quiet she's gotten used the lack of sound, because with Tony missing listening to Christmas music just didn't seem right.

"Who are you?"

"He's from the FBI, here about Tony." Ducky walks in behind the FBI Agent, making him jump.

Satisfied he still has skills good enough to get the drop on people Ducky offers his hand.

"Doctor Mallard," the agent greets him with a smile.

"Agent Hotchner," Ducky does likewise.

He remembers the Agent well despite not having seen him since the unsatisfying end to their investigation five years ago, though he was pleased to see him well and still an Agent.

"I need to talk to you both about Agent DiNozzo."

Ducky sighs and turns to Abigale. Fresh tears forming in heavily maked-up eyes, he hands her a box of tissues, which she quickly uses to dab the moisture and remove the growing black streaks running down her cheeks.

"Yes, yes I should imagine you do."

.

"That's the house?"

Spencer swallows, it wasn't a bad house. Just old. In the middle of nowhere and could easily be haunted.

"You scared of ghosts' kid?" Morgan appears to read his mind.

"I don't believe in ghosts." Reid says without pause, looking affronted.

Morgan chuckles. "Everyone should believe in ghosts."

He walks off leaving Reid standing at the gates alone. He shivers, looking around at the few surrounding properties. It's the only house on the block without Christmas lights and if it didn't scream 'I'm a serial killer with a federal agent locked in the basement' he didn't know what did.

"Hey, wait up." He runs quickly after Morgan, catching him up.

"Scared?" Morgan's still laughing even as he knocks on the front door.

"No," Reid scoffs, hiding it poorly.

He really doesn't care if Morgan sees him scared, as long as he didn't leave him alone. In the dark. He hated the dark.

Arriving at the front door Spencer shivers again. Neither Vegas nor California had ever been this cold. He really is going to have to buy more clothes if he's to survive the winters in Washington. Trying the door handle after no one answers reveals it's locked. Not that they'd expect a serial killer holding a federal agent hostage to answer the door. They approach the side of the house, coming up on the rear door Morgan jiggles the handle and this time the door squeaks open.

"Morgan?" Spencer whispers a warning when he opens it wide, drawing his gun. "Don't we need to identify ourselves or something."

Morgan ignores him and enters the dark kitchen.

"Morgan!" Reid hisses urgently.

Morgan shushes him, walking deeper inside the house leaving Spencer no choice but to follow.

Anxiously looking around, Reid, feeling scared and really wishing Hotch was with them, enters the house after him. They search the downstairs together and he notices something through the darkness. Diverting from the path Morgan is making down the hallway Reid enters the living room alone. Taking out his flash light he shines the beam over the dusty fire place, scanning the array of framed family photos littering the mantle. Kids and grand-kids he assumes by the sheer the number, all looking rather dated and old, probably from the late eighties judging by the background décor and memories of his own school photo's.

A loud band from above has Reid spinning on the spot, gun raised and ready. Nothing moves or makes a sound, he steps cautiously to the side, leaning to look around the doorframe when another side step has him tripping over a tin bucket lying next to the old coal fire, sending a poof of soot into the air.

"Woe Pretty Boy!" Morgan catches him before Reid face plants the floor.

Pulling in ragged breaths and righting himself Reid demands to know what the hell he's doing creeping up on him like that.

"Not creeping up on _you,_ am I?" He laughs a little harder, causing Reid to frown.

"What about the unsub?" Reid distracts from himself, well aware he's still breathing a little too heavy for such a minor fright, the all encasing dark not exactly helping him calm down.

"No unsub." Morgan shakes his head, "No one's lived here for years."

It confirmed what Reid had been thinking just before Morgan scared the crap out of him.

"Good, let's go then." He wastes no time in leading them back out the way they came.

.

"It wasn't funny." Reid reiterates for the hundredth time.

"Yeah it was, should have seen your face," Morgan's still laughing as they reach the next house.

"It was dark, you were creeping around." He tries and fails to hide the hint of remaining nerves in his tone.

Morgan eventually takes pity and decides to let it drop completely. The fact Reid wasn't curious about why he declared the house abandoned told him everything he needed to know and despite liking a good practical joke, he isn't insensitive to the feelings of others who might not find the situation as funny as he does

Approaching the next house, this one on a more normal looking street with a smattering of Christmas lights, displaying some willingness to celebrate the season Morgan deflated. This was looking like a bust and even though on average they lost as many as they saved, looking at the kid next to him he hadn't the heart to destroy his optimism just yet.

Opting to keep his thoughts to himself they walk down the path. He's still laughing thinking of Reid jumping out of his skin, when just as they reach the door, raising his hand to knock a gunshot rings out hitting ground behind them. A second and third follow as they dive for cover closer to the house, one taking out the SUV's window. Trapped by the rapid fire Morgan pulls Reid down, moving them along the front of the house, turning around the back out of aim.

Leaning flat against the side wall, Reid still in his grip, gun drawn and ready Morgan wips out his cell, hitting speed dial.

.

Hotch is conducting an interview, waiting for an answer Gibbs' steely eyed gaze unwavering, when his cell chimes.

Removing it from his jacket pocket without breaking eye contact to check caller I.D he barks, "Hotchner,"

Hotch listened carefully, giving nothing away, not saying a word despite desperately wanting too. He knows any reaction on his part will have Gibbs demanding answers and right now he needed to focus on his team's safety before dealing with NCIS.

Further gunshots ring out over the line and Hotch can hear sirens in the background.

"I'll be right there." He answers in urgency, hanging up.

"Something happen?"

Gibbs heard the commotion no doubt.

"Stay here, Agent Jareau will continue the interview."

"Like Hell I will-"

"Gibbs." Hotch holds his hand out. "I'll call when I know more."

Sitting back down Gibbs nods looking less than pleased, Hotch returns the nod and walks out the door.


	3. Chapter 3

It's already dark when Gibbs arrives on the scene. Abby managed to track the location of Hotch's cell quite easily once Tobias had been convinced to lend his specialized FBI assistance. Snow which had been falling for the last few hours is newly settled on the ground still glistening, having made his mad dash across town even more of death run than driving with him was usually. Ducky had wanted to come too, but Gibbs had already been pulling out of the Navy yard, a promise to call as soon as he found Tony.

Pulling into a street, where at first it appeared to be a festive circus of fairy lights and people full of Christmas cheer, actually turned out to be the local P.D's armed response team, a mass of FBI Agents and SWAT personnel. Slamming on his breaks Gibbs jumps out the second he shifted into park not even bothering to shut the door behind him. Running through the police line, flashing his badge to the uniform guarding the perimeter nothing deters him from his target as he makes his way over to the team of people whom he'd entrusted with Tony's life.

"We have eyes on the suspect." The SWAT commander says into his radio on approach. "Do you have a shot?"

"Negative." A tinny voice echoes back.

Gibbs joins him in his crouch behind a cop car, parked as part of a barricade around the suspect's house. It was old, run down and fairly secluded - just enough so that neighbours wouldn't expect to see you every day, but not so much that the local kids made up horror stories about you. The perfect place for a serial killer to retire as DiNozzo might say.

"What about Tony?" He asks taking the offered sight scope from the leader.

Looking down the lens he can see a single figure standing to the left of the bay window, a silhouette of a gun in his right hand.

"No sign of your man yet Gunny," The commander informs him regretfully without taking his eyes off the house.

"Damn it." He growls in frustration.

"Gibbs?" Hotch appears behind him, running over, "What are you doing here I told you we'd handle it."

Gibbs stands, turning to face him. "You really expect me to hang back while my agent needs my help?"

"He knows there's no escape this time, he'll give up." Hotch tries to assure him.

"Or he'll shoot himself and the hostage." He shouts back.

"We're not sure Agent DiNozzo is even in the house." Hotch presses, his trademark frown making his feelings about Gibbs' presence here very clear.

"So what _do_ you know?" Gibbs snaps, giving Hotch his best tell me now or die glare.

He was close to going postal himself, having spent the last however many hours sitting on the side-lines being treated like the victim's family.

"We believe it's Oliver." Hotch pauses.

Taking his glare off of Hotch Gibbs stares at the house. He remembers interviewing Cain Oliver, steady job, wife and college age son, he was a strong suspect, but the physical evidence hadn't been there and they'd had to let him walk. The killings stopped not long after . Gibbs didn't want to believe they'd been that close to catching the son of a bitch so long ago.

"We know he fit the original profile, and in the five year gap between the last murder and now Oliver has dropped off the map, no social security, no credit history."

"Exactly like you said he would." Gibbs growls, frustrated. "Well if you're so sure it's him you know his end game. What are you doing outside? You said it yourself, he fits your profile. Storm the damn place before that bastard kills himself and takes my agent with him." Gibbs shouts, pointing at the house surrounded by armed police.

"Shots were fired, but we have no I.D on the shooter-"

"It's him." Gibbs barks.

"It's not that simple."

"Why?" He demands, eyes narrowing sensing something off with the Agent in front of him. "We're wasting time. Tony's in there. Alive!"

"And so are my agents!" Hotch shouts at him.

Gibbs rears back, " _What_?"

"Agent Reid, and Agent Morgan." Hotch looks away with a sigh.

Agent Reid was the kid, he remembers. Gibbs looks long and hard at Hotch, he should have recognised the look, it's the same one he's been wearing himself since receiving that damn tape. "How?"

Hotch levels him with a nononsence glare.

"That was the call." Gibbs nods.

"Agent Morgan managed to alert me to the situation, but I've had no contact since. Oliver won't pick up the phone."

"He planned this." Gibbs wanted to kick himself. "He knew I'd get you involved."

Whatever his motives for doing this now instead of years ago he'd done his research obviously, taking Tony and then Hotch's new Agents proved that. Just like the skinny kid had said back at NCIS, the connection to Gibbs wasn't a coincidence.

"If this was intended as a trap it's not a very good one. He's surrounded and I know we can take him down without escalation."

Agent Hotchner is trying to make a good sell, but his out of breath desperateness gives him away. He's as scared as him. Scared of what Oliver may really do, what his real end game is because it certainly isn't to go underground this time. Wherever he's spent the last five years it looks like he's done with running and that signalled nothing good for any of them. Hotch knows that as well as Gibbs does.

Making an impulsive decision not to make Tony wait any longer for rescue he checks his weapon and storms past the barricades, daring any of the SWAT team to try and stop him.

"Gibbs!"

He hears Hotch's shout and Parson's curse, but Gibbs keeps walking anyway, right up to the house and through the front door.

.

"Gibbs!" Hotch shouts again, but getting no responce copies his action by checking his loaded weapon and on the SWAT commanders count runs around the rear of the house with two men.

Hitting the wall without a shot being fired at him from the man they believe to be Oilver by the window Hotch wonders if he's just lucky or if Gibbs is right and luring them both here is Oliver's plan after all.

Inching his way around back Hotch hear's a noise, indicating SWAT to hang back he moves slowly forward and catches sight of a figured slumped against the back porch.

"Morgan," Hotch hisses when he gets a better look, arriving at his side and shaking his Agents shoulder.

"Shit-"

"No don't move," Hotch holds him up, checking him over for injury.

"I can, ah, crap, that hurts."

"Where?"

Morgan rolls his head and looks at Hotch through half-mast eyes. "The bastard got the drop on us. Shot just right so we'd have no choice but to hide round back."

Looking at the slick red coating the back of Morgan's head Hotch believes he knows what might have happened next.

Sighing he asks, "Where's Reid?"

"Took him," Morgan growls, hitting the ground with one balled fist, "kid put up a fight, got a punch or two in but the bastard was twice his size and then pulled the gun on me, got him to behave real quick. Sorry Hotch I lost him I should've-"

"It's alright, Reid knows what to do. Can you walk?" Hotch rushes, not wanting to think what Oliver has in store for Reid.

Morgan tries to stand, but immediately falls back down.

"Stay here," Hotch secures Morgan with his spare gun.

Checking the immediate area, ordering SWAT to hold postion outside Hotch silently stands from his crouch and with a squeeze to Morgan's shoulder lets himself in the back door of the house.

.

Once inside all the commotion outside seems to fade away. Pausing in the hollow entrance hall, having made it this far without challenge Gibbs removes his gun from his belt and steadily makes his way forward. Checking the first two rooms in the dark before finding himself in the entrance of the only lit one Gibbs comes face to face with a man he remembers being a lot younger the last time they'd met.

"I look just like him, don't I Agent Gibbs?"

Gibbs nearly lowers his weapon in shock. This is not who he'd been expecting, and to be honest if it wasn't for the FBI kid kneeling at his feet, gun pressed firming to the back of his neck he'd say there was no way this guy was the one responsible for kidnapping Tony.

"Where's my Agent?" Gibbs snaps getting to the point, ignoring the significance of who he's actually talking to.

The tall stocky man now in his mid twenties leans casually against the wall next to the front bay window, being careful enough not to stand directly in line of sight. Within half a second of his demand Hotch enters the room behind them, weapon drawn coming to stand at his side. The look of disproval Hotchner shoots him communicates exactly how he feels about this course of action, but Gibbs nods his approval anyway. Hotch doesn't see because he's staring in surprise at the young man banishing the weapon at his own even younger agents head.

"You know I never could work out what made him so angry all those years, when he was torturing and killing kids just like me, it didn't make sense." The man leaning in the corner, intermittently twirling the revolver between his fingers, chuckles.

"Doesn't have to make sense, Tommy" Gibbs pushes, making it clear he knows exactly who he's talking to.

"Oh but it does Agent Gibbs." Tommy grins, pressing the gun once again to the boy's head, "and I think young Spencer here would agree with me. What do you think, Agent Hotchner?"

Out the corner of his eye Gibbs sees Hotch's expression harden. Trigger finger ready in position.

"Where is your father Tommy? We can help you if you tell us where we can find him." Hotch takes a careful step forward, his eyes on Tommy the whole time, steadfastly not looking at his own kid who's looking less sure by the second.

Tommy, who had been staring down at the gun in his hand, looks up sharply and glares.

"He's dead." Gibbs states, reading the look in Tommy's eye. His gut had gone into overdrive the minute he clapped eyes on the young man who had been just a college kid when they first met and he'd just worked out why. "You killed him didn't you?"

Tommy nods, feral smile taking over the sad part of his face, "It was self-defence," he shrugs as if it's nothing, "he tried to kill me first, apparently God had told him I was an evil sinner and it was time he took care of me."

"Let the kid go and we'll talk." Gibbs suggests when Hotch remains quiet, a token jester he already knows will be rejected.

"Why?!" Tommy jams the gun hard into Agent Reid's neck, making the kid hiss in pain.

"You're holding two federal agents hostage," Hotch pokes, voice cold yet still friendly enough not to push Tommy Oliver into doing anything rash. "You want to talk about your father Tommy we can do that. Just let Agents Reid and DiNozzo go."

Gibbs watches Tommy's face change as Hotch asks again for Tony and the kid's release. "He. Hated me! He wanted me dead." Tommy flings the gun in the air, giving the kid a reprieve, "but he never laid a god damn finger on me until I accussed him of killing those kids!"

"You're his son, his own flesh and blood. He couldn't hurt you so he hurt those that resembled you." Hotch answers.

"Surrogates I believe you called them didn't you agent Hotchner?" Tommy's smile is twisted, part sad and part… feral was the best he could describe. "Just like Spencer here. He'd have made an excellent surrogate don't you think?"

"You're not your father and Reid isn't you." Hotch adds desperately.

"You're right, he isn't me and if I was killing surrogates I'd be killing guys your age wouldn't I? Guys like my father." Tommy smiles, dropping the gun barrell to rest over Reid's shoulder, running his hand through the kid's already blood mattered hair. "What I'm interested in is something a little more... complicated. Very interesting stuff this profiling, I've learnt a lot from your friend's books," he winks at Hotchner.

Gibbs doesn't readily know what Tommy is getting at but Hotch swallows, seeming to weigh his next words very carefully.

Tone flat and all business he says, "You took Agent's DiNozzo and Reid because of their connections to us, it's us you want to hurt."

"And you made it so easy! Both of you! I did have a plan but you practically gave this one too me," Tommy almost collaspes in laughter, pulling himself in at the last second, digging his nails into Reid's scalp, yanking his head back by his hair enlisiting a small yelp.

Hotch's expression is grim, Gibbs knows he's no profiler, but watching Tommy Oliver with his hands all over the vulnerable looking FBI kid he knows what Agent Aaron Hotchner really wants to do.

"Get your hands off him." Gibbs growls lowly, his tone leaving no doubt of what he intends to do if he doesn't.

"Let Reid go, you've made you're point."

"And what point is that?" Tommy snarks.

Gibbs sees Hotch waver, his eyes moving over Tommy to settle on his agent.

"You've got daddy issues," Gibbs grumbles casually. "But then who hasn't? You said it yourself, Agent Reid there is a surrogate, so is Agent DiNozzo. But not for you , not for your father. You want to punish us for not arresting your father five years ago." Gibbs shoots a sideways look to the unsettled agent at his side.

"You're not evil Tommy, your Dad was the killer not you, you were just the object of his rage." Hotch picks up.

"I was the object of nothing in his life!" Tommy shouts suddenly, forgetting the hold he has on Reid, letting the kid slump to the floor, "Nothing! He didn't even acknowledge I was alive."

Before Gibbs knows it Tommy Oliver is hitting the floor too, Reid having swung his bound legs round to trip him up. The gun goes skidding accross the floor, Hotch grabs it while Gibbs aims his squarely at Oliver's head.

"You're done." Gibbs quips, shutting him down. "Where's Agent DiNozzo?"

Tommy laughs, leaning forward with a snide grin on his face he whispers "You're too late. Again."

"You son of a bitch-"

"Gibbs!" Hotch flings an arm across his chest, preventing him from grabbing Tommy Oliver by the throat. "Get him out of here," he orders SWAT who moved in the second the suspect was secured.

Letting SWAT take Tommy Oliver into custody Gibbs watches them manouver him out the house, staring at the kid they'd tried and clearly failed to save five years ago. Then his mind resets, focusing on another kid, one he hopes like hell he can still save.

"Search the house, Tony's here somewhere." He orders determinedly, leaving the room.

"Do it." Hotch reiterates the order when Parson's looks between both of them like they're crazy to think it'll be that easy.

Hotch is already kneeling on the floor, cutting the ties around Reid's feet and hands when Parson's men start tearing the old house apart looking for any sign of a trap door or hidden cupboard that could be used to stash a body, alive or otherwise.

"You okay?" Hotch asks quietly, slicing through the second knot binding his agents hands.

Reid nods mutely, rubbing his freed wrists, downcast eyes to the floor. Surveying him, the damage mostly looks superficial. A few cuts to his face and hands, plenty of bruising to show its self later no doubt. He hasn't spoken one word and Hotch isn't certain wether to push now or leave it until they're somewhere a little more private.

"Is Morgan okay?"

His voice is small, strained and unsteady, but the strength the poor kid's trying to put into his words makes Hotch proud.

"Yeah he's fine. That was quite a take down," he adds casually, distracting him.

Reid flashes him a small smile, but it doesn't quite reach his eyes. Sighing at the gesture Hotch really wants to make him feel better, but there's no words. This is his fault. Reid was targeted because of him, because of a case that happened before they'd ever met. Being an FBI agent was dangerous sometimes, but the least Hotch could do was protect his team from the people who may want to hurt _him_. He flashes back to earlier, Morgan's resistance to the case, wanting to know why they were getting involved again. Right now Hotch can't help but think if he'd told the team about the details of that case, the ones not held within the files that maybe they'd have worked out Tommy's Oliver's motive a lot sooner and maybe saved Reid from experiencing his first on the job hostage situation - as the hostage.

Knowing Gideon's going to hit the roof when he hears about this Hotch gives up waiting for Reid to make a move and taking pity on the pair of them wraps his arms around him in a firm hug. The kid doesn't flinch this time.

.

"Gibbs!" Parson's call echoes from the kitchen.

Gibbs runs in to discover a locked door in the back of the pantry.

Thinking of the tape, a room without widows…"This place have a cellar?"

Not waiting for someone to get a cutter Gibbs removes his weapon and shoots out the lock, kicking at the door until it gives way to reveal a wooden staircase. He insists on going down first. The damp walls match the colour of those that they'd seen on the tape sent to NCIS and his heart pounds faster in his chest with each step. The room at the bottom is empty, but Tony's been here, he knows it. They were close. Searching the small area Gibbs discovers another locked door cutting them off from the rest of the basement. This one also has a chain with a padlock and he's about to shoot that off too, ricochets be damned when someone barges past him with a pair of bolt cutters. He nods his thanks as they cut through the metal as if it was paper and stands back, allowing him to open the door.

Giving it a push the door swings slowly inwards, releasing the unmistakeable smell of dead bodies. Though he'd seen plenty of dead people in some awful states he wanted to gag right then from fear alone, but forced himself to keep it together. He would be damned if he wasn't going to be the one to find Tony now.

And find him he does. Eyes closed, arms folded neatly across his chest lying in the middle of the dark, damp and cold basement on a visibly stained mattress supported by an old metal framed bed. Tony had been stripped of his own clothes and redressed in a long dirty white hospital gown. He was still pink in colour, although his nails showed crescents of blue around the cuticle. Cyanosis Ducky would tell him if he had been there to view the body.

Gibbs kneels down next to him, reaching under the IV line trailing from one arm, attached to a still full bag of unidentified fluid and takes hold of Tony's so very cold hand. Moving his fingers across the wrist Gibbs pinches the arteries. And under his thumb and forefinger he feels a faint but definitely rhythmic thump, thump.

"Gibbs?" Hotch questions worriedly from behind, the others flooding into the room one by one.

It takes a while for him to find his voice, chocked up all he can manage is a husky "He's alive."

"We need a medic down here!" Hotch shouts to the Agent hanging back by the stairs.

The message is passed on, voices getting more and more animated around him, but Gibbs can't make out much of what anyone is saying, he refuses to take his eyes or hand off Tony out of fear that he'll wake up at his desk to discover this is all a cruel dream. Blood is rushing so fast through his head making its own thump thumping sound so loud he's surprised it's not gushing out of his ears, until he feels a hand on his shoulder and he pulls away, the noise receding enough to let the commotion around him register.

"It's a sedative." Hotch comes up on Gibbs' side, pointing at the IV.

Gibbs doesn't question how Hotch had come about that information. All he cares about is getting Tony out of there so he wastes no time in pulling the tap out of his arm. He gets a glare for his efforts from the medic who arrives just in time to see him do it, but in no way was he leaving it there to continue pumping god knows what into his already weaken body. The officer holding the bolt cutters uses them again to release Tony where his feet are chained to the bed and ignoring the sore red skin around his ankles Gibbs loops one arm under his back, the other under his legs and with help quickly transfers Tony to the waiting stretcher that's been brought down to take him to hospital. The medic's move about securing him for transport after rechecking his vitals and Gibbs spends that time inches from Tony's face, willing him to wake up by patting his cheek repeatedly.

"Tony," he hisses, "DiNozzo!" he shouts more loudly.

Eventually Gibbs gives in and smacks him, rather lightly, around the head. Tony's eyes snap open in a flash.

"Boss" he croaks and as sappy as it sounds it was the sweetest word Gibbs had heard in days.

"Right here, you're going to be alright." He pats his shoulder ignoring Tony's confused frown and nods to the medics that they are good to go.

Gibbs follows them up the stairs, Hotch close behind and he's about to thank the Agent for his help when Tony's tired and confused voice travels back to him.

"On it, boss…"

 _ **.**_

 _ **Christmas day morning 2003…**_

Hotch walks into the bullpen, his stride a lot more relaxed than when he'd walked in twenty-four hours ago.

"Agent DiNozzo," he greets stopping temporarily in front of Tony's desk, "Glad to see you well."

"Good to be well…." Tony's frown just about says it all.

"Agent Hotchner, Doctor Reid" Hotch points at Reid stood next to him, arm in a sling.

"Sorry, memories still a bit fuzzy," Tony smiles shyly.

"Hotch," Gibbs waves at him from the stairs, picking up his pace to join them.

He stuck out his hand and directed them over to his desk, a smile a mile wide on his face. "I owe you one." He says with sincerity as they shake.

"You're welcome, I'm glad it ended well. For both of us." He adds, giving Reid a cursory glance. "And your Agent seems to be doing okay considering?"

"He doesn't remember a thing," Gibbs sighs quietly, amazed and very thankful.

"That's not surprising you see the sedative Tommy was using was one being trialled by the pharmaceutical firm he was transporting for, the dosage he was using was quite low, enough to keep someone unconsciousness without permanently damaging any of his organs. Of course long term exposure would most undoubtedly be fatal -"

"He was very lucky," Hotch interrupts after what he deemed a respectful amount of time to let Reid get to his point.

He doesn't want to disparage the young agent, but at the same time Reid needs to learn the concept of less is more.

"I am surprised they let him go so quickly."

"Ah well, that's our Anthony," Dr Mallard shows up, stepping into their conversation with ease. "And you must be the young man who got hurt trying to find him."

"Doctor Mallard." Hotch introduces him. "Dr Reid."

"It's just a scratch." Reid adds shyly, running a hand over the bandages covering his wrists, brushing over the hostage experience when the older doctor keeps a soft if still rather intense stare upon him.

Hotch is betting Reid was waiting for the usual response of surprise that came every time he was introduced as doctor instead of Agent.

"And Anthony was indeed very lucky." Doctor Mallard turns, giving the other object of their conversation an indulgent smile. "We definitely owe you our thanks for bringing him home safely."

Gibbs hustles the doctor away, but he doesn't go far. Little black bag in hand he stops at Agent DiNozzo's desk and begins what is probably the young man's hundredth check-up since being released.

"We thought you'd like to know," Hotch starts as Gibbs walks with them back towards the elevators, "Tommy had a girlfriend, and she's pregnant."

"We believe it to be the trigger to his behaviour." Reid adds, not sounding at all put off by Hotch's earlier mild reprimand. "Knowing he was to become a parent and fearing he'd turn into his own father-"

"Turned him into his father," Gibbs finishes. He gets it.

"Let's just hope with Tommy Oliver's suicide this ends here," Hotch offers his hand this time, bidding a goodbye to Gibbs, doctor Mallard, Tony and the other agents on Gibbs team.

"Let's hope." Gibbs agrees. "And take care of this one. He's definately a keeper." He adds with a wink at the kid.

Hotch smiles in return, ignoring Reid's blushing as they step back onto the elevator.

.

After their FBI friends leave Gibbs' eyes shift and he catches the flash of Ducky's gaze across the bullpen where he's still checking up on Tony. He knows that look, it means things will be okay, but he's to tread carefully for a few days. He can do that. All of a sudden yelling at DiNozzo feels like the last thing he wants to be doing, despite the fact that Tony is no different for all that had happened. He can't remember anything of the last five days. Seems there were something's only Tommy Oliver can explain.

At least the reports will be interesting to read, though he isn't looking forward to signing off on any of them. What may surprise some people is that's the part of the job Gibbs hates the most, though not for the obvious reasons. It's hard to understand unless you experience it, but reading how one of his team was shot at, injured or kidnapped, quite often in DiNozzo's case, isn't easy, even if they are sat at the desk across from him at the time of reading.

"Going to hit the head," he announces, not wanting to lament on it any longer, it's still Christmas and he's going to make sure they get home in time to finish the holiday off right. "Reports on my desk before you leave."

"I'm not sure what to put in mine boss." Tony's soft, yet honestly confused voice stops him dead in his tracks.

Ducky and Kate are staring at him to.

"Well I don't remember any of it." He shrugs, the hoarseness of his voice his only souvenir from his time with Tommy Oliver, "last thing I remember is leaving work… then nothing."

Gibbs thinks about it for about a second.

"Then write that." He shrugs, palms out like he doesn't think it's that hard to work out, and continues out of the bullpen.

.

With Gibbs and Ducky gone Tony frowns at his computer screen. A few hours is all the hospital kept him, after they'd administered a course of IV fluids and nutrients Tony proved he could eat a meal and managed not to throw up so they'd had little choice but to let him go when he demanded it. Gibbs had waited at the hospital with him and Tony had loved the look of surprise on his face when Tony had strolled out in some scrubs and flashed him his walking papers. He didn't question him, but Tony figured Gibbs and Ducky knew he'd forced the doctor's hand; they just weren't balling him out for it this time. It had been clear on the drive back to the office, which was ominously silent that they'd all had a pretty sleepless and stressful week looking for him, so they probably didn't have the energy to fight with him right now. On the other hand, aside from some serious jetlag and a sore throat, Tony could barely tell the difference between this week and his last spring break trip. Both weeks are absent from his memory, though for very different reasons.

"You know what Kate, it's a little disconcerting knowing I've lost nearly a week," Tony says trying to break the maudlin silence that has overtaken the office on what should be a happy day. "But on the bright side it's still Christmas! At least I didn't miss it - Oh, crap, I never got around to shopping."

"What? You left it a week before Christmas to… oh never mind, I don't know why I expected anything else. I bet you're one of those that shop every year on Christmas Eve, or no… I bet you re-gift things." Kate grumbles, hitting her keyboard hard as she clicks print.

"It's charitable," Tony shrugs off her rant, thinking if she's ever going to cut him some slack it'll be after surviving a potential serial killer.

"It's laziness" Kate shoots back.

Tony frowns, but manages to hold his tongue. Ducky had left to close up autopsy and with no other witnesses getting one over on Kate now would be pointless. Likewise no one was here to see her rip him a new one for just breathing apparently, so he didn't care about that much either.

"So what did Paula say?" She asks after a moment's awkward silence where she must have sensed his juvenile resilience.

"About what?" Tony pretends he has no idea what she's talking about.

"Don't go all coy on me now DiNozzo, she was worried, really worried." Kate raises her eyebrows suggestively. "I saw you saying goodbye to her when you walked in."

"Ah I see, so because she was worried about me you think she wants to sleep with me, Gibbs was worried about me too?" He points out with a grin.

Gibbs of course choose's this moment to reappear and Tony immediately drops the smile and turning on his best 'boy who'd been caught with his hand in the cookie jar' look begs for forgiveness. Gibbs laughs and proceeds back to his desk.

"I was worried I'd have to train another agent, it's taken me two years to break you in," he teases, picking something off his desk before heading off towards Abby's lab or maybe autopsy.

Tony gives Kate a look of mock hurt to disguise the real hurt underneath. She laughs, collects her report from the printer and places it on Gibbs' desk like he requested. She's in a hurry as she'd gotten a last minute flight to Indiana since the director had signed them off rotation for the rest of the week. Despite Tony insisting he's fine, apparently it's not okay to come straight back to work after being kidnapped and drugged for nearly a week. The only reason he's here now is because Gibbs had been his ride. The director had already called to tell him he was to 'take his sick leave at home or he'd personally sign his commitment papers,' he'd then muttered something about crazy ass marines and hung up, obliviously liking his Christmas being interrupted as much as Tony did. Kate swiftly breezes out the office wishing him a merry Christmas, but not without dishing out a final dig that she's tired and unlike some hadn't been lying around like sleeping beauty all week. It comes from love though, he's sure of it. Pretty sure anyway. He frowns. Maybe it was 50/50.

Never the less Tony finds himself alone in the bullpen staring at the empty desks around him. The whole floor deserted. You'd think being in a kidnappers clutches for four days would earn him some sympathy points. There's no need for someone to stay with him really, the fact he'd slept through the whole thing and remembered nothing means he probably won't even have nightmares. He does have friends and connections outside of NCIS, and maybe had he not been kidnapped would have made arrangements with some of them, but since he had he isn't ringing around now begging for a last minute invite.

Logging on and looking at the state of his inbox alone he realises he has a lot of catching up to do. Maybe he'll just stay here, sort things out so he doesn't fall behind. Yeah that's a good plan.

A sudden smack to the back of his head has Tony near falling out of his chair.

"You not ready yet DiNozzo?" Gibbs stormed passed him, packing up his stuff.

"Ready boss, for what?" Tony looks at him with bug eyes.

Gibbs indicates they're ready to leave. Tony looks at him, wide green eyes holding nothing back. When he receives a small nod and a _'what do ya think DiNozzo?'_ He jumps up out of his chair, a smile teasing his lips as he unplugs everything, grabbing his things, reaching Gibbs' side before he takes even a step out the bullpen.

"Good, we're meeting Abby and Ducky in an hour." Gibbs says walking towards the elevator, mentioning some restaurant he recals Ducky raving about in the summer.

"Not cooking this year?" Tony asks, surprised, Gibbs never liked going out when staying in was just as good.

"Well no DiNozzo," Gibbs says with humour, turning to face him as he presses the call button, "We lost something important a few days ago and spent all our time trying to find it again, so nobodies had time to shop."

It was spoken in Gibbs' usually bark, but the words where unlike anything he'd heard him say before. The elevator doors open, but Tony's still frozen in place, wondering if he really just heard what he thought he did. He doesn't get long to think about it. Gibbs is already in the elevator and an irritated bark of _'DiNozzo'_ has him jumping in too, ready to face another Christmas day evening in the company of the people who were fast becoming his new family.

.

Walking into a deserted Quantico Spencer joins Hotch in the elevator and together they embark on their journey to the sixth floor. His mind's preoccupied, focusing on the short exchange between Agent Gibbs and Hotch just before they left. It was a little strange, but Spencer's used to that. People make strange comments about him all the time, that was just one of the nicer ones. As the elevators climbs floors Reid concentrates so hard on his thoughts he doesn't realise he's caused concerned until Hotch breaks the silence.

"Are you still in pain?"

"No its fine, just a few scratches, they didn't have to make a fuss." He responds quickly, scratching the bandages under his shirt, "thanks for picking me up from the hospital, I could have gotten the train."

"Not many trains running Christmas day Reid, besides I haven't exactly had a chance to go home yet myself." He sighs happily. "Good thing Hayley's not expecting me at her mother's until this afternoon."

Reid breathes a sigh of relief, glad Hotch hadn't missed Christmas with his wife because of him.

"Guys, where you been?" Morgan calls over to them when they walk into the BAU.

Reid is surprised to see him there.

"Missed your flight." Hotch says like he expected it.

The pair then exchange a look that Reid isn't sure what to make of.

"I'll catch up with everyone in the New Year, apparently there's a rumour the BAU has been authorised leave under special circumstance?" Morgan asks with a hopeful grin.

Hotch tips his head with a wink, confirming he had the request approved that morning, climbing the stairs to his office. "Have a good time boys, see you in 2004."

Reid smiles happily to himself, settling down at his desk.

"Oh no you don't," Morgan pulls him up again, by the scruff of his collar no less.

"But don't we have-"

"Not today Pretty Boy." He grabs his book bag and pushes it into his stomach.

"You two still here?" Hotch cheers jogging back down the stairs his own things in hand.

"No we are gone, you coming?"

"Hold the elevator I'll be right there."

Reid let the words and busy atmosphere fly over and around him, getting lost in the easy camaraderie unable to stop his brain from recording it all. Curling his fingers in his collar once again Morgan all but drags Reid back over to the elevators. Clearly not as worried about his injuries as Hotch. Hotch then joins them as promised and ordering Morgan not to hurt him, they travel back down together.

"I know you both have the week off but please take it easy, I do not want a repeat of the last time you two had drinks."

"Hey that was me just trying to make Pretty boy here feel better, you know misery loves company and all."

Reid looks between the two of them, confusion and a little fear clear on his face but says nothing for a change. After letting too much out earlier and then getting taken hostage he's putting all his effort into keeping his head down. Silent words are exchanged over his bowed head, Reid desperately wants to ask but fears they're talking about him, so keeps up the pretense of not noticing the strange behaviour and prays for the elevator journey to be over quickly.

Once outside they part ways with Hotch, who before leaving returns Morgan's fist bump, pulls Reid into another quick one armed hug and wishes them both a Merry Christmas. Reid's so dazed by the weird behaviour and surprising attention that he offers nothing more than a wave before turning to offer the same to Morgan.

"Come on kid I'm parked across the street."

Reid freezes in confusion, making an umm sound which causes Morgan to laugh.

"What's so funny?" he asks innocently.

"You being completely silent for a change." Morgan grins pulling him across the street, unlocking his truck. "Nice to know that big brain doesn't always know everything."

"Where are we going?"

"Reid you really think any of us would leave you alone at Christmas, come on man," Morgan climbs in and instructs Spencer to do the same, "We're going to grab JJ and hit a bar, might find us some Christmas cheer if you know what I mean."

"No I really don't." Reid deadpans but climbs in anyway. "I need to change, I smell of hospital."

"Morgan points at the go bag in his back seat, "already covered. You can change at JJ's."

Reid eyes him suspiciously as Morgan starts the engine.

"Like I told you kid," he says in all seriousness, pulling out into the road. "You're not alone."

A/N: As always thanks for reading, favouriting, following and of course reviewing! TTFN;)


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